Can't Love, Can't Hurt
by TheGirlAndTheMonster
Summary: 120 one shots featuring one couple. Mikan and Natsume. Rated T but be warned, there will be innuendos, suggestive themes & coarse language. #7 All My Fault: "Mikan inadvertently tries her hands at being Emma Woodhouse."
1. In Between Worlds

**_i. _****In Between Worlds**

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**_E_**veryone knows that once that phrase or any variation thereof is uttered, everything will instantly take a turn for the worse

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"So, let me get this straight: no one can see you, even when you're standing right in front of them; no one can hear you when you speak; no one can feel it when you touch them." I checked each point by raising a finger, and waited for the blue-haired girl's affirmation. "I-I guess so." she replied nervously and fidgeted with her hands, looking up at me from where she sat on my bed.

"Well, it's clear then." I stated, and continued applying mascara to my lashes, utilizing the aforementioned fingers to hold the applicator. "What is?" the girl asked, clearly not catching on. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Sometimes they could be so _difficult_.

"You're d-", I stopped myself from blurting it out insensitively. "Well, you see", I tried again, turning away from the mirror to look at her, sitting miserably a few feet away from me. "You're kind of sort of...not that...alive anymore." She frowned. "So, what are you saying?" She inquired, her lower lip beginning to tremble.

I sighed. "Honey, hate to break it to you. But you're dead." "Dead." she echoed, her eyes probably a picture of what you would find if you looked up the term _blank _in the dictionary. "Yep, dead. Done for. Kicked the bucket. Bit the dust. Whathaveyou." I waved my free hand dismissively and the patted her shoulder awkwardly with it.

Contrary to popular belief, ghosts aren't insubstantial. At least, not when you have the ability to see them. There apparently exists a rule that says if you can see something, you can touch it. Or maybe I just unintentionally give off some vibes that make ghostly forms turn substantial. It's not like this job came with a manual. I'd be glad if it did, I assure you.

Blue-haired ghost girl seemed at a loss for words, presumably contemplating what I'd just said. It never ceased to amaze me how it always took them so long to get it. I mean, wouldn't you notice if you died? Or was it that I only ever got to deal with dumb ghosts? Being able to see and talk to ghosts was bad enough, but that I only get perverted, old or mentally challenged ones really took the cake.

To my utter horror, the ghost girl's lips began trembling excessively now and I repressed a groan, forcibly swallowing my annoyance. Great. I had made another one cry. Today was just not my day. And of course, this had to take place the day I happened to have scheduled a date. "Aww, sweetie, don't cry." I tried to sooth her but by now she had started sobbing uncontrollably. I immediately felt bad and went to sit next to her, making an effort to comfort her. I'm really not programmed for this kind of shit. I was _way _too...well, pragmatic probably wasn't the right word. Clumsy, maybe? Insensitive? Self-absorbed?

My point being, I made ghosts cry on a regular basis.

I kept on patting her arm awkwardly, but it didn't do much good. You'd think by now I'd be good at it too. Spending solace, I mean. But I wasn't. I really, really wasn't. I was simply too socially inapt. "Please, don't cry." I begged her, bordering on desperate now. "It's all going to be okay! I swear!"

"But how can it be? I'm dead!" she bawled, wailing, completely dissolved into tears. "Yeah well, a little birdie told me that being dead isn't all that bad. It's gets better once you, you know, cross over there. I know, it sounds cliché but that's the word around here. Crossing over is _the_ thing. "You don't wanna stay around here, I mean, earth, and watch all your friends grow old and live long, happy lives while you stand on the sidelines, watching."

I came to regret my words a second later. That had been the wrong thing to say. Clearly. I cursed myself silently.

The girl decided she had wasted enough of my precious time, looked at me with glassy eyes and disappeared. Anticlimactic, to say the least.

"Huh, that went well." I muttered sarcastically under my breath. "What a surprise." I really wasn't the right person for this job. Hell, even my best friend would probably have fitted the job description of Ghost Whisperer better, and she was quite the icecube. At least she could handle diplomatic situations well.

"I hardly think my day can get any worse." I told my silent room, and shrieked loudly when the room answered.I wished I could take the words back the second I uttered them, because everyone knows that once that phrase or any variation thereof is said, everything will instantly take a turn for the worse.

And everything did.

In the form of Natsume Hyuuga, that is. My ghostly stalker. Anyone have a spare gun available, so I can kill myself?

Natsume Hyuuga was everything that was wrong with my life. For one thing, he was a ghost and a stalker **at once**. Two nuisances at the price for one. For another thing, he loved to annoy and bully me. And last and certainly not least, he claimed he **loved** me to boot. That is to say, if he was to be believed. Which I didn't think he was. Mostly. Kind of. Part of me didn't, at least. A small percentage. It sure sucked being stuck in between words––in between the world of the living and the dead, that is. I was way too young to be handling all these traumatizing encounters with equally traumatizing and fucked up ghosts, most of them a few bricks short of a dozen, if you get my meaning.

"I really don't know who recommended you for this job." he announced, while materializing into the room, next to my bed, looking bizarrely out of place with his dark cloak in my pastel-colored room. "I really don't know who asked you for your input." I retorted, acerbic.

He smirked. I threw my hair brush at him. Sadly, it didn't hit him. Once again, anti-climactic.

"It's not even that the job's that hard.", he mused. "It's just that you are too useless, insensitive and silly to do anything right." "Gee, thanks for the praise. You look especially lovely today as well." I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest defensively. Why, our relationship was all about balance and affection. Not. Cruel honesty was Natsume's middle name.

"You made that poor lass cry. Thank God you have me around to right all the wrongs you make." he gloated and stepped closer to me. I scrunched up my nose. "Lass? Man, Natsume, we're not in godforsaken Ireland, okay? Next thing you know, you'll be calling me bairn. Ugh." I shook my head in mock disappointment.

Natsume sneered his trademark sneer. I gave him the finger.

"You're so sexually frustrated, it's not even funny anymore." Natsume commented smugly. "You volunteering, or what?" It was my turn to sneer when he didn't negate my question. "Sacrifice myself, more like." he taunted me. "Before I let any part of you near me, you will have to tie me to a chair and cut my hands off, or something else will be cut off." I spat, arching a brow and lowering my gaze suggestively.

"The tying up part sounds doable." I narrowed my eyes; in turn, Natsume narrowed his. "Sounds like you're pretty desperate to get laid, huh, Natsume?"

For a moment, I though he looked taken aback, but I must have been mistaken because a moment later he said "I stand corrected. It is kind of funny seeing you hide the fact that no boy in the whole universe is even remotely interested in you." Ignoring him, I checked the time and cursed inwardly when I realized that I was wasting it. "Not even aliens could be interested in a freak-of-nature such as yourself. I, on the other hand..." he trailed of, grinning cheekily.

I groaned. "Ugh, not this again."

He winked. "I've always had a bit of a soft spot for you, you know." "Well, if that's the way you treat a girl you're trying to woo, I don't want to see you dealing with a girl you hate." Natsume just smirked.

"I hate you." I sighed and stepped away from him. "No, you don't." he countered smugly. "Oh yes, I very much do." I disagreed, and took another step back as he continued gaining on me. "I beg to differ.", Natsume scoffed. "I know, as a matter of fact, that you are very much in love with me."

"Whatever. Don't flatter yourself. No use talking to you today. A wall is more responsive." I declared, stepped around him, averting the arms he extended in my direction, and picked up my cloak.

Natsume watched me as I freshened up my lip gloss, and I saw his reflection narrowing its eyes. "Where are you going?" he demanded, and now it was on him to cross his arms over his chest. "Out." was my curt reply. This really wasn't any of his business. Why did everyone feel the need to meddle into my love life?Wait. Let me rephrase that: For fuck's sake, why couldn't Natsume just stay the hell away from me and stalk someone else? "With?"

"Stop being so possessive, Natsume! By the way, you're sounding like my mother. We––that is to say, you and me––are **not** a couple, so I can go out with whomever I please." His eyes flashed with anger and I could tell I had succeeded in riling him up. I smirked triumphantly. Natsume might be getting under my skin, but I sure as hell got under his as well.

Looked like I was good at _something _after all.

"Oh yes? And what about that one time we-" he started, but I didn't let him finish. "Look, Natsume, you are a ghost. I am not. Since you can't rise from the dead, and I don't feel particularly inclined to die, we will never have a future together. With the emphasis on never. Hell, there isn't even a we. How often do I have to explain this to you?" I told him, exasperated. A muscle in his jaw flexed. "That didn't seem to bother you when we-"

"Stop it, Natsume. No means no. Go haunt someone else. I bet there are enough females willing to succumb to your abundant charms." Air quotes accompanied my last words.

Natsume frowned darkly, and kept watching me as I put on the last touches of my make up. "Mikan." He said, seriously, and I repressed a shiver as he said my name in _that_ way. All earnest, quiet, and passionate. I took a deep breath to compose myself. "I'm trying to lead a normal life here, don't you see, Natsume?" I exclaimed, throwing my hands into the air in desperation.

Natsume truly brought out the worst in me.

I checked the time and realized I really had to get going. I tried to brush past Natsume but one of his arms shot out and snaked around my waist, efficiently stopping me in my tracks. His body next to mine (which was warm despite his death, ironically enough), his breath on the soft skin of my neck, and his arms around me, nearly crumbled all my reserve.

"Mikan." he breathed. "I understand." He lowered his eyelids and released me. "Go, if you need." Intense pain shot across his features and the vulnerability he showed really did me in. I swallowed, and caught his intense gaze.

I couldn't move, and we were only inches apart. Close enough to kiss. Close enough for me to go to heaven for a few precious minutes. Close enough to succumb to the temptation that was Natsume Hyuuga. Close enough to almost touch my lips to those of a ghost. Close enough to screw my life up even more than I already had. Close enough to make the biggest mistake of my life.

**A/N: **Decided to give the 120 one shot challenge a try. I will probably update very sparsely. Sorry, I know I suck when it comes to commas. Most of my one shots are probably going to be more on the drabble side and the setting will be AU, because I suck at canon-verse. Sorry for any mistakes, please review if you liked it. For the title, I was inspired by the album with the same name by Augustana.

Future one shots might be bordering on M, but won't include any explicit contents because I can't write lemons. They are probably going to be implicit and suggestive.

By the way, Natsume comes across as really arrogant. Arrogant, vulnerable guys might be nice in fiction, but I can assure you, in real life a boy is so not desirable if he's all over himself. Ugh.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Gakuen Alice. Wouldn't dream of it.


	2. Breaking the Rules

_**ii. **_**Breaking The Rules**

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**_A_**ll things considered, if rules aren't meant to be broken, then what were they created for?

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"_There is one rule, children, that you must never, under any circumstances, break. Vampires from different castes never mingle. Aristocrats will never get involved with the two lower castes. You are superior to them. Your blood is pure. Tainting your blood with theirs is the biggest disgrace there is known to our world. You would be severely punished. The penance would be death for both parties. Your lover would be executed in front of your eyes, death by decapitation. As for you; your body would be burned, and your family name tarnished and blemished forevermore. So make no mistake, children, and stick to the rules, and the world lies at your feet, waiting for you to seize it."_

That rule. That one rule that has been indoctrinated into us since our birth. That rule that no one would ever dare break. That one rule that must never, under any circumstances, be broken. Or all hell would break loose. No one would ever dare break it. Or would they? One would have to be incredibly silly or suicidal to do break it. I am neither. But would I dare break it, for love? Would being with him really justify sacrificing everything, sacrificing my life? Risking the loss and destruction of all things I've ever held dear? Am I ready to commit that selfish crime? Am I ready to face the terrible, definite consequences? Is he?

"_You mustn't forget. Nothing you do is ever without consequences. Every deed you do sets in motion a ripple of events. Doing this deed means having to face and cope with execution, agony and death."_

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"What are you thinking about." I look up, my gaze locking with his. His seemingly endless crimson eyes bore into mine, and I smile. Instinctively, I press a kiss to his jaw line. I love his red eyes. They remind me of blood and blood equals life.

"Everything." I answer, somewhat cryptically.

One of his fingers starts drawing patterns onto my bare skin, causing me to shiver. "That is a lot to think about.", he muses. "And you really shouldn't be thinking about it now, when you're with me."

"Maybe you're not distracting enough." I tease, smiling. He returns the smile, but his has a wicked edge to it. "Oh, I think you know exactly how distracting I can get." he mumbles, burying his hands in my hair, as he rolls on top of me. He starts nibbling on my earlobe, and I sigh ecstatically.

But the pleasure shooting through me as Natsume gently moves on top of me doesn't let me forget. I cannot force myself to forget that we are committing treason. That we are breaking the most sacred rule in our world. That we are mingling, even though I am a pure-blooded aristocrat, while he is merely a common tradesman's son, a member of the middle class. That in the eyes of society, he is beyond me, and I am above him.

Ironically enough, considering that at this very moment, I'm lying beneath him while he's on top of me.

I know that if we were ever to be found out, it would mean death for both of us. But what do I have to lose, besides him? I am an orphan, lone heiress of my parents' vast wealth. I have been since the age of ten when they perished.

Following their death, I was raised by old maiden aunts, which basically meant raising myself. To them, raising me meant employing dancing masters that taught me every dance they could think of; teaching me five different languages; and instructing me to learn every complicated rule our society ever devised by heart. Craving praise and appreciation, I did as I was told. What I did get, however, were coldness and superficiality. There is nothing a child needs more than warmth and love, both of which they were incapable of giving.

Affection and devotion were foreign to them, so they treated me like a fragile doll, acting like I was but an empty shell, devoid of emotions and a brain to think with of my own. They loved dressing me up in pretty dresses and showing me off to their wealthy friends, hoping to gain esteem by having a passably pretty, extraordinarily obedient niece that didn't mind being shoved around, touched and stared at as long as she wasn't left to her own devices. In retrospect, my childhood after the death of my parents was desperate and needy. I, a stupid lamb, surrounded by and left to the wolves. I cannot pinpoint the exact moment when our society started to cause me revulsion. It was a slow process, that resulted in me breaking every rules without thinking twice about it now.

Those years instilled loneliness in me, and made me the person I am today. Cold and perfect on the outside, but still so very desperate and lost on the inside. To outsiders, I am simply the Sakura family's cherished and beloved princess. Only one persons knows the real me.

Since my sixteenth birthday, I've been on my own, in terms of immediate family. But not entirely on my own.

Considered by my aunts a lowly peasant, we were cut off for a few years, but we met again, on my sixteenth birthday and became as close as one could get. We were friends, confidants. But our mutual trust and loneliness soon turned into something else; dependency and love.

Now, there is only Natsume. My Natsume. Always close to me. Always by my side. Always close enough to touch, but never close enough to keep. His name is a synonym for longing, nostalgia and wishing. His name is forever, his name is past, his name is present. No time like the present. That's us. We cannot have a future. We are not allowed to idly spend out days, together, lovingly or otherwise. We must live in the now. How long until we will have to part, be forced apart? How long until tragedy strikes? Memories are a powerful device. But every memory is finite. And every end is the death of something meaningful.

Natsume lives near by, and is a caste below me, though I have never minded it. And I never will. Not when we were innocent children, and especially not now that we are on the verge of adulthood.

I have nothing to lose by being with him, nothing worth keeping, anyway. And yet I'm risking my most precious things by being with him—my love and my life. But I could do without the latter if I could just ascertain that the former be safe.

The knowledge of what could happen doesn't make the risk we are taking any less dangerous. And it doesn't make my actions any less selfish. I should stop this, should stop Natsume from what he is doing right now. But I cannot. I need him. I feel nothing, unless Natsume is around. I am nothing, unless Natsume is with me. He completes me. He is everything to me. I should release him, I don't want him to die. I want him to live, be alive, more than anything. Maybe I should do something about this. Maybe I should make him stop? Maybe I should put an end to all this, to save him?

Intense pleasure rolls through me, and my eyes snap open. Natsume's face is inches from mine. I raise one of my hands and stroke his face tenderly. My cold fingertips trace his smooth skin and leave invisible marks. Natsume sighs happily, his expression is content.

"I love you." I whisper, trailing kisses all over his face; my lips fondly touch his forehead, his cheeks, his chin, his mouth, his neck. I put my cheek to his chest and I hear his heart beating. I need to hear it; his heart, healthy and alive. It has to keep beating. But it is at risk to stop altogether. Unless I do something about it. I really should do something about it. I will. I swear, I will.

"I need you.", he replies, swallowing hard. "Wherever would I be without you?" I don't reply, and he goes on. "I need you more than the blood that keeps me from dying. I don't mind that I can never see the sun, you are my sun. You are my everything." he breathes.

How can something that feels so right be so wrong? It cannot be.

"You would be better off without me." I tell him, snuggling into him.

"No.", His voice is stern, determined and soft at the same time. "We've been over this, Mikan. My life would be bleak without you. My life would be but a mere existence without you, devoid of any bliss."

It's wrong how utterly dependant we are on one another when this co-dependence could lead to our respective deaths and utter destruction. It's unhealthy. I know this cannot end well. Nothing good will come off this. Besides our love, that is. Can love be wrong? How can something so pure cause something so sinister?

"You would learn to live without me." I reason, kissing his neck, gently sucking. Natsume always smells so wonderful. He smells like home. He is home. My fangs extend and grate against his soft skin. His pulse visibly quickens.

Vampires biting each other is the most intimate and erotic thing there is. Vampires from different castes biting each other and sharing blood is the highest of treason. Worse than them sharing the bed. Natsume and I have done both acts countless of times. We never tire of them. We are addicted to each other's touch and blood. I love it when Natsume's teeth sink into my skin and he is closer to me than any being has ever been. And I love it when my teeth sink into his skin and I make him feel like he is in heaven. Like there is no greater pleasure for him than me biting him. That he needs me.

If two vampires drink each other's blood regularly and a certain amount of times, they will never be able to live without it happening anymore. There is no definite count how often it has to happen to have an impact on both parties. It depends on how close and devoted both parties are. If this sharing would now cease to happen, Natsume and I would probably go insane. We can never be apart for too long. We can never exist without the other close by. If we don't see each other at least once a week, we start becoming physically weak, even sick.

That's why, even between regular vampires, the sharing of blood is ill-advised and not something they decide on lightly. It's why vampires drink human blood, because there can never form such a bond between a vampire and a human. And pure-bloods like to think of themselves as most powerful and better than vampires of the lower casts, which is why they despise the prospect of us pure-bloods being dependant on "impure" blood, leading to the prohibition of relationships between us and non-aristocrats.

As I bury my teeth in Natsume's neck and suck blood out of his bloodstream, I can feel his emotions running into me along with his blood. He loves me, he needs me, he would die for me. I press my body closer to his, wanting to be one with him, my hands gliding over the skin of his chest to his back, my nails digging into his skin lightly. I feel his body shudder in bliss next to mine. His hands clench around my shoulders, he takes a deep breath, my hands curl around his waist as I draw my fangs back in and lick the blood from my lips first and then the blood from the bite marks on his skin. My saliva instantly heals the holes I marked him with.

It is wrong how dependant he is on me. This needs to stop. I sit up and pull the sheets up with me, gathering them around me. Natsume lays next to me, close to falling asleep. I kiss him tenderly on the forehead and get up.

"Where are you going?" he mumbles, his voice sleepy. I don't answer.

Parting is never easy, but each time we part, we know it could've been the last time we ever saw and touched each other. There is always the risk of being found out.

I hate saying goodbye, so I usually leave without a word. I need to be the strong one between us, so it is always me who leaves first. I am stronger than Natsume, in a way. I have more resolve and of course, I'm physically stronger, since my blood is purer than his. The knowledge reassures me, soothes me even. That I know I can always protect him. From almost everything.

I put my clothes on and throw one last look over my shoulder. His eyes are closed, his chest falls and rises evenly. I smile wistfully and button up my cloak.

I may be leaving, but there will always be another time, another way for us to be breaking the rules. For us to defy our race and commit treason. For us to be too careless and be found out. For us to face death.

Bitterness rises within me, but I manage to quell it with my resolve.

All things considered, if rules aren't meant to be broken, then what were they created for?

**A/N: **Wow, this was probably the most weird and most erotic piece of writing I've ever written. Let alone cory. I can do corny well, it seems. Kind of borders on M-rated territory, huh. Well, I hope you liked it. Somewhat. And I hope it isn't too confusing. There might be a follow-up to this oneshot/drabble sometime in the future.

I'm afraid it ended up being pretty rambling and pointless, so I apologize for that. Also, please excuse any spelling mistakes, grammatical errors and punctuation ones, I suck at commas.

Thanks to **adrienna22** for the lovely review and the encouragement, it means a lot. ;)


	3. Illusion

_**iii**_**. Illusion**

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"**_I_** don't know why you keep pretending you don't want me, Natsume. We both know you do."

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Natsume's gaze wandered through the bright, wide and well-lit ball room impatiently, scanning the crowd, looking for one specific person. He disregarded every woman wearing bright-colored dresses, knowing his girl to be in mourning, which meant that she would probably wear a dove grey or colorless gown.

Why was it that she was always late? He, of course, being the impeccable gentleman he was, was never tardy and always on time. She, being the only daughter of a recently perished nouveau-riche social climber who had ascended society's ladder by being incredibly charming and successful, was more unconventional and less well-mannered. Now, however, she was orphaned, since her father, her last immediate family member, who had been a widower to begin with, had passed away and her mother was long gone.

Natsume's family was anything but nouveau-riche and prided itself by being able to trace their lineage back to William the Conqueror. Natsume was the heir of a vast fortune and an orphan himself; he was the infamous Duke of Nottinghamshire. His little sister attended the best boarding school for young gentlewomen there was, and all of his friends and companions were part of the gentry.

He was expected to wed in due time, and lately it had been all the rage amongst members of society to conjecture and speculate who his chosen bride-to-be would turn out to be. Who would snare the formidable, wealthy gentleman that went by the name of Natsume Hyuuga? Natsume had heard some of the gossip going around and merely scoffed at its inanity. He was sure that he hadn't recently scheduled a date for an upcoming wedding to the bewitching(ly disagreeable) daughter of the Duchess of Surrey, Luna Koizumi, who was almost ten years his senior. And neither, to his knowledge, had he asked Sumire Shoda, the heiress of the Foreman fortune, for her greedy hand in holy matrimony. It had been news to him as well that he had allegedly impregnated the stoic and much admired, exotic Hotaru Imai, society's newest darling, who had been gracing the city with her presence since the begin of the season.

He smirked. He was sure that all of society would be scandalized were they ever to find out the truth. Namely, that he had no intention of marrying any of those admittedly pretty, yet predictable girls. Prim and proper wallflowers weren't his target, as of lately. They should know better, he thought, as he himself was anything but predictable; on the contrary, he was rather known for his recklessness. It might not be in fashion to marry out of love, as love matches were frowned upon and rare, especially if they weren't gainful, advantageous for either party. But it was exactly what Natsume intended to do. Marry the girl he loved.

To be precise, he was dead set on marrying Mikan Sakura, ordinary daughter of a low-bred commoner.

She was clumsy and inept, and since her début two years prior, she was the one person everyone loved to make fun of and ridicule. Something she was blissfully unaware of, for which Natsume was grateful, for he couldn't stand to see her suffer. And he knew that she was given to being overly emotional and prone to melodramatics.

Natsume despised the hypocrisy and cruelty of his peers and acquaintances. He hated the illusion of impeccability and perfectibility they liked to uphold. The illusion of grace and magnanimity, that he knew not to be true. They were shameless pretenders, the lot of them, always trying to keep up with he Joneses, and much as he hated to admit it, he was one of them. He pretended outwardly that he enjoyed their company, and he pretended inwardly to be better than them. But he knew better.

He had been raised having the same amount of hypocrisy and pretension indoctrinated into him, pampered by his parents and adored by everyone around him, and he could have fallen for the impeccable illusion of integrity, but he liked to think that he was clever and savvy enough to see through it.

Now, as he took a long sip of his champagne and tried to avoid the advances of a woman almost twice his age, he spotted Mikan across the room, entering through the big, wooden doors, looking lost and out of place, as usual. As if on cue, everyone immediately started gossiping about her and all the crimes she was supposedly guilty of committing, all the mistakes she was accused of having made in the last twenty-four hours, all the sins she allegedly liked to indulge in. Mikan Sakura seemed to be everywhere at once. She had been sighted indulging in a scandalous tête-à-tête with Koko Yomo the same time she had been been indiscrete with Tobita Yuu.

Natsume snorted and had to keep himself from walking towards her, instead having to contend with just staring at her petite frame. There were enough rumors about her alleged impurity and her blemished chastity. Natsume knew they were constituted by lies and malevolent speculations. It certainly wouldn't help the matter if he boldly strode over there and kept her company. He kept all the facts to himself, all the long hours spent with her, idling away. The nonsense those around him liked to spread didn't hold a grain of truth. But instead of barging into their conversations and defending Mikan's honor, he kept up the illusion of indifference.

A woman settled next to him, touching his elbow. Natsume hardly acknowledged her, praying silently she would quickly leave him alone. He felt her sweet breath breezing over the exposed skin of his neck and kept himself from bristling and rolling his eyes. He turned his head to look at her, annoyed that she kept him from watching the object of his concern and affection.

It was Sumire Shouda who had come to bother him, pressing her ample décolletage against his side. Another day he might have cared for her, but those days had long since passed.

"Watching our favorite Ms. Goody Two-Shoes, I see, Mr. Hyuuga." she purred, her voice sultry and full of irony. Natsume deigned to shrug, but not to answer her verbally.

"I've heard she's tried her luck with you, as well." Sumire continued, a cattish smile gracing her plumb lips.

"Your sources are lacking, then, Miss Shouda." He answered gallantly.

"Afraid not.", Sumire said. "She told me so herself. Has a knack for boasting, the little darling has. Likes to tell everyone of the little indiscretions she so enjoys committing."

Natsume raised an eyebrow. "She did?" He inquired, mild curiosity shining through his voice. He was convinced Mikan had done no such thing. She was the one between the two of them who wanted to keep their companionship a secret after all. He was sure Sumire was just looking to get a reaction out of him, to rile him up a little. Maybe she suspected there was something between him and Mikan, and looked for confirmation.

"Oh, yes.", Sumire assured him, leaning closer until her mouth was inches from Natsume's ear, lowering her voice to a whisper. "I thought if you settled for the likes of her, you would delight in spending some quality time with someone with decidedly more class. Hmmm?"

Natsume snorted, causing Sumire to pout.

"I haven't had to pleasure of enjoying Miss Sakura's company, and neither am I interested in enjoying yours. Consider myself grateful for your generous offer, however, Miss Shouda."

"I don't know why you keep pretending you don't want me, Natsume. We both know you do." she hissed, losing her composure.

Sneering, Natsume answered "I wasn't aware we were close enough acquaintances to be on first name basis, Miss Shouda, I must not have got the message."

She blushed and decided he was a lost cause. "I don't know what has gotten into you, Natsume. Just a few months ago, you were never loath to a bit of flirting and a little tête-à-tête, but nowadays you're just so close-knit. Whatever has brought on this change of heart?" she demanded.

"I looked up the definition of class and it wasn't your name I found. Good day, Miss Shouda."

"Won't you ask me to dance, at least?" Sumire called after him, exasperated, as he extracted himself from her presence, not even dignifying this with an answer. Letting his gaze once again wander, he caught a fleeting glance of an ashen-colored dress, its wearer heading toward the balcony.

Mikan wasn't just common and awkward around others, she was also unrestrained, out-spoken and inconspicuous in terms of appearance. Mikan's upbringing had been carefree and happy, the reason for her cheerful disposition, and the answer why she did not get along well with most participants of social events.

Mikan also happened to be everything Natsume ever wanted. She possessed his heart, she occupied his thoughts. Around her, he could be someone else; a better person. He yearned for her with every fiber of his being.

For Mikan, Natsume would stop adhering to society's strict rules and conventions, and he would stop wearing the illusion he wore around himself like a shameful cloak. But Mikan adamantly refused to give her consent to marry him. Her refusal infuriated him, but it was one of the reasons why he loved her so much. Her principles. She was passionate, and free-spirited, and principled, whereas the rich daughters society tried to shove on him were demure and obedient.

Natsume hadn't seen Mikan since the death of her father a few weeks ago, and she hadn't received visitors since. He needed to see her now, and he hoped that she would finally agree to marry him. The thought of her being all alone in the huge manor she inhabited saddened him.

In the past, obedience and adoration had been everything he wanted and looked for in a wife, but since that one time Mikan had spilled her crystal glass of champagne all over him, he had only had eyes for her.

She had been so awkward about it too. She loudly apologized, her face looking flushed, and began dabbing at his soaked smoking with the sleeve of her elegant dress. Natsume was amused, the on-lookers were shocked, and she was flustered. She was the epitome of unconventional and lovely.

Afterwards, he had made it his mission to taunt her and make fun of her every opportunity he got, but she never took the bait and the whole thing resulted in her bluntly telling him to "shove off." In the middle of the ball room, no less. She had been completely ignorant to the faux-pas, the lapse in manners, she had committed, and it had occurred to Natsume then that she wasn't the sharpest rose on the rosebush. But she was certainly the most exotic and thorny one, making other roses pale in comparison, with her alluring scent and stunning colors.

As he entered the balcony, he saw her standing by the balustrades, her back facing him. He closed the door behind him, not bothering to try and be quiet, not meaning to give her a scare. She didn't even turn around.

"I've been wondering when you would show up." she said, her voice tired and lacking its usually lively, upbeat tone. Natsume approached her, fighting the urge to hug her to him. "You're all I've been thinking about the whole evening." he confessed.

"You're all I ever think about." she retorted, amusing him. They always fel the need to best each other. He stepped next to her, leaning into the balustrade.

"Does that mean you've been missing me?" Natsume asked, hoping she would say yes. She faced him, a slight smile on her lips "Do you even need to ask? I suspect you're not as bright as you like to think."

"At least I'm brighter than you." he teased, and took her hand, kissing her palm through her glove.

"You'll never find a wife if that's how you treat women, you horrible person." she responded, pulling her hand away. He tried to grab it again, but she took a step away from him, eluding him. Natsume frowned. She was even more elusive than usual.

"What's going on, Mikan?" he inquired, instantly feeling something wasn't right, and crossing his arms across his chest expectantly.

She didn't reply at once, but took a few minutes to mull over her words. "I've been thinking, Natsume.", she replied hesitantly, one gloved finger painting invisible patterns on the cold marble of the rail. "You see, my father's last wish was that I be happy. Leading a happy life, that is. A peaceful, quiet life. In the countryside, with a decent husband; a huge family." She looked up at him, her hazel eyes boring into his earnestly. "He knew how I feel about all this." She made a sweeping gesture with her hand to indicate what all of this meant. Still, Natsume didn't understand what she was getting at.

"And I that's what I want too. Fulfil his wish, be happy, lead a long life. Without society's watchful eyes judging me. I can't stand London. In fact, I hate it here."

"What are you getting at?" Natsume asked, impatiently.

She took a deep breath. "It's quite simple actually; I don't want to be your mistress. That...thing...between us has got to stop."

Natsume took a step in her direction instinctively. He was beyond shocked by her words. "What, Mikan, why...I mean, I..."

Mikan smiled faintly. "I don't think I've ever seen _you_ at a loss for words." Natsume grabbed both her hands angrily, raising is voice slightly. "I can't believe you're joking while you're all but telling me that you never want to see me again."

Her expression instantly sobered.

"I need you." Natsume stated. Mikan's features softened, and her fingers intertwined with his.

"No, you don't. I know you will find someone. A girl who will be more suitable than I am. I know there will be someone for you. Someone who will be a match and a partner to you. Who will understand and love you completely. A wonderful, suitable wife." He felt the heat of her skin seep through her gloves and squeezed her hand hard, fearing the heat could slip through his fingers like sand.

He had never realized that she was aware of her place in society. All the times she had refused his proposals and talk of the future, he had written it up as her not wanting to leave her sick father, as her not wanting to rush things. Sure, he had suspected she was self-conscious because of her family, but he would never have thought that her inferiority in terms of status and esteem weighed so much and worried her so.

Natsume saw the unveiled pain in her eyes and pulled her closer to him, her chest pressing against his, and crossed his arms over her back. Burrowing his face in her hair, like he had done a thousand times before. But this time, it didn't have the soothing effect it usually had on him.

"Polka dots.", He said, emphasizing each syllable intently, calling her by his old moniker for her. "I want only one person as my wife, and I'm embracing and holding her at this very moment."

Mikan raised one of her hands up to his face and cupped his cheek. "You can't marry me. What will society think of it? Of you? They would hurt you, and I couldn't bear to see you hurt. Don't you see, I'm doing this for you! Not every love story can have a happy ending."

"Don't act like you're doing me a favor when you're breaking my heart!" Natsume retorted, angry, refusing to belive it, when the horror dawned on him inevitably.

Mikan shoved at his chest, but he didn't let go, pulling her even closer instead. She threw her hands up in the air when it didn't work.

"Why do you always insist on being so difficult, Natsume?" she exclaimed, exasperated. "This isn't any easier for me than it is for you, okay? But you can't marry me, for God's sake, society would shun you if you so much as indicated that you feel anything for me. Anything besides scorn, that is. You're a duke, I'm a mere commoner. What about your friends? They would abandon you! You might fancy yourself in love, enough to make yourself forget all the consequences a union between us would entail. But what about the future? Would you still love me if no one wanted to be seen, associated with you anymore? No one wanted to keep you company anymore? Would you still love me?

"I know how much you love the city and all this! I would be the one to take that from you! I would hate myself. And what kind of marriage would that be? Your passion might make you blind to the consequences now, but I will be the one to rein your temper and put an end to this insanity! What about in ten years, when your lust for me has faded? What about in twenty years, when I will be ugly and frail? Did you every consider that? No, of course not, you're reckless and think the love you feel for me will be enough to conquer every obstacle that might be thrown our way."

"You're such a god-damned martyr, aren't you? Think you're oh-so high and mighty, yes? Think you can tell me what I feel and will be feeling? You have no idea of the intensity of my feelings. I love you! I need you by my side! You think I care for any of those people in there? If they abandon me first chance they get, they aren't my friends. It'll just help me see whom to trust and whom to get rid of! Hell, Mikan, you're all I ever think about. I couldn't picture a future without you by my side! For you, I would live in the countryside for the rest of eternity. But without you, I will never get to be happy. I will never stop thinking of what might have happened between us. How happy we could have been. Don't do this to me! I need you by my side! Don't you see that?

"If you think any of those idiots in there are any competition to you, you are wrong! I need your touch to keep me sane. Want me to go in there and tell them so? Because I will! I will, if only that means I can keep you. You don't know me at all if you think I would get back on my promises that easily. You don't know me at all! How could you do this! How could you give me everything, let me have a taste of bliss, let me think it's permanent, and then suddenly take it all away? Just up and leave, without asking me, like we never had anything, like we never shared the bed, never shared feelings?"

Natsume was breathing heavily after he finished, his gaze never wavering from hers. He saw tears glittering in her eyes. When she finally answered, her voice broke.

"Natsume." she whispered. "Kiss me. One last time." She titled his face toward his and closed her eyes, melting into him when their lips met. The kiss wasn't passionate. It was sweet. It felt like a goodbye. It felt as good and right as the first kiss they'd shared all those month ago, in the parlor of her house.

"I'll never see you again, will I?" Natsume asked, his voice cracking, when they parted. She smiled sadly. "No, I'll go abroad, travelling with a friend from back home." She leaned her forehead to his. "We only deceived ourself. The illusion of happiness gave us hope. But deep down, we always knew this wouldn't end well."

Natsume nodded numbly, releasing her lithe body as she stepped away.

"I love you." Natsume sat, more to himself than to her. She was already halfway to the door, but she turned around one last time, and smiled wistfully. "I'll never forget this very moment my whole life. The two of us, on a mild summer night, saying goodbye and being desperately in love. We'll never be as young as we are now, Natsume. You're a promising man, I'm sure you'll get over me soon enough. What's first love compared to a life full of promises and possibilities, full of beautiful women and passion? I know, you'll have forgotten about me in no time."

Having spoken her parting words, she left.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that." Natsume muttered, closing his eyes, and enjoyed the cool night air cooling down his temper, the wind gently touching his face where her hands had been mere moments ago.

**A/N:** I knooow, this is the epitome of cheese and drama, but I've always wanted to write a period piece-ish one-shot. I quite like it, actually. I originally planned on giving the one shot a happy ending, but a sad one seemed more fitting. Might write a follow-up to this some time, but you can at least expect some prequels, I have already finished a few. And thanks a lot for the reviews, they really, really mean a lot and I appreciate every one of them. :)


	4. Emotionless

**_iv. _Emotionless**

_Marks of battle, they still feel raw_  
_A million pieces of me on the floor_  
_I'm damaged goods for all to see_  
_Now who would ever wanna be with me?_

_(Exit Wounds by The Script__)_

_**E**_mptiness. A vacant space. There's nothing there within me. No love, no hate, no rage. Only indifference. It's scary how lifeless and empty I feel. I crave emotion. I need to feel something. Anything. Why is there nothing there?

* * *

Soundlessly I get up, wrapping myself in a blanket to cover my nakedness, leaving the boy on the bed sleeping the sleep of the just. I bend down to pick up my lace bra and my panties, my blouse, my skirt, and my stockings. I quickly get dressed and hurry to get the hell out of there, leaving last night behind. It's already starting to fade from my mind, a distant, grey memory, blurry 'round the edges. Already blending together with all the other fragments of the past, of meaningless boys, used on my quest to make myself feel, one night bleeding into the next.

At the moment, I feel dirty, useless, and am disgusted with myself. But I also feel needed. And that feels nice. Even if I'm just needed for sex. It gives me a purpose. I know how fucked up that must sound. But. Being needed gives you a purpose. I strive for a purpose; I crave a goal to work toward; I covet a dream worth fighting for, because as it stands now, my life is empty and useless.

It's still better than sitting at home, all by myself, not being needed by anyone.

I'm not existing, not really. I'm just kind of there. Getting up every morning, going through the motions, keeping up appearances, so as not to worry my uncle. I've been living with him for the last two years, since the car crash that killed my parents. Leaving me behind. I can't help but loath them for it. Kind of. But I still want them back, here next to me. If that makes sense.

Nothing really makes sense anymore.

I know my uncle does his best to make me happy, and I try to return the favor by doing okay in school, never getting into any trouble, by keeping my emotional state to myself, keeping my one-night stands to myself. He would probably look down on me and avoid me if he knew. I wouldn't blame him.

My uncle could be my grandfather, he's that old. He's my father's brother and by the time my father was born, he was already a teenager and much older than my dad. (It's funny how you can't picture old people as teenager. He's not ancient, but there nothing juvenile about my uncle.) My grandparents are long gone, and I never met any family members from my mother's side because she was orphaned at a younger age than I was. I have no one. Any friends I used to have before my parent's death left me alone, to my own devices, to sort out my messes. Because I told them to.

I wanted to be left alone. I couldn't stand their pitying gazes and their "Let's talk about it"s. I wanted to be left alone in my misery. Now, they are mere strangers, any strings that used to be between us cut off. They look down on me, they avoid me, they talk about me behind my back.

Everyone does. I know they do. They call me names; whore, slut, and bitch.

That doesn't faze me. I simply wonder if they are ignorant to the hypocrisy. Because I know, if I was a boy, my action's would be considered okay. It's because I'm a girl that they scorn my behaviour. Girls should be chaste. Girls should be innocent. They shouldn't be promiscuous. That's their preconceived notion, society's opinion.

I don't care. Should I? I know I'm pretty and at least sex makes me feel somewhat alive. Is it pathetic? Maybe. But who are they to judge me? They don't know me. They can't see how isolated I am, how hopeless. My cry for help is mute. They can't hear it.

And thusly, I'm slowly but surely headed toward my own destination, descending into hopelessness, under their watchful, judging eyes. Who can save me now? I may not be very clever or intelligent, but I'm not dumb. I don't have very high hopes for my future. If my life doesn't take a steep turn soon, I will probably die young and pretty. Forgotten and left alone. Doesn't sound half bad.

I can't help myself, I can't save myself. I'm weak and pathetic. If something doesn't change soon, it might just be the end of me.

* * *

We have a new classmate. He recently moved here. He's good-looking. I'd bet my weekly allowance that he's good in bed. I can hear the girls around me whispering, giggling. They are checking him out. Understandably. Who wouldn't? As his gaze meets mine, he smirks. I look away, not bearing the scrutiny of his eyes. What's he thinking? Maybe he thinks I'm shy? Probably not much longer, he won't.

They are going to tell him I'm fast, I'm easy, a slut. I don't care. I know how easy it is to cram people into drawers, labelling them.

The boy sits down behind me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the girl next to him leaning over. Her voice is loud enough for me to hear, a mocking whisper, she's taunting me.

"I wouldn't get too close to Sakura if I were you, you might contract an STD." Her voice is coated in fake concern, but I detect the underlying malice. I flush. Everyone who heard her chuckles and grins. I wonder what New Boy thinks. By now, he must have formed an opinion of me, put a label on me. So much for anonymity.

I might be to blame for the girl's anger. Might not have been the best idea to sleep with her boyfriend a week after they broke up. She's resentful and vindictive, that one is. The spoiled ones always are. Daddy's little girl, used to getting what she wants. I don't resent her for it, truthfully. I used to be one myself.

New Boy surprises me by answering "Shut it, no one asked for your opinion." He sounds annoyed. Rich Bitch doesn't know how to react to that. I peek over my shoulder, and see her frowning face. As she catches his gaze, she smiles awkwardly and turns away.

* * *

After class, I'm the last to leave the room, taking my sweet time to pack my stuff into my bag. I stare at the floor as I leave the room. Don't see the hand that grabs mine and pulls me close.

It's New Boy. He's staring at me. He has the most amazing red eyes. Mesmerized, I stare into them, going through my memory, trying to remember where I've seen them before, or a similar pair.

"Do I know you?" I ask, nervously playing with my bracelet. It's a thin, golden band. My parents gave it to me a few weeks before they died.

Red-eyes smirks. "Don't remember me, do you, Mikan?" My head snaps up. He knows my name? Uh-uh. I might be in for some trouble. I swear to God, a stalker is the last thing I need right now. Angrily, I tear my hand from his grip and take a step back.

"Fuck off." I snap, the walls I built I around myself already in place, turn around, and try to escape his intimate stare. "You were my first, you know." He says to my retreating back, his voice sounding distant and slightly amused.

"Must have been the time of your life." I mutter, sighing as he falls into step besides me. When I look up, he isn't looking at me. But that smirk of his is still in place.

"Can I help you?" I try to sound more annoyed than nervous, but I haven't had that long of a conversation in a while, and it unsettles me.

Ignoring my question, he goes on. "It was a year ago, we met at a bar, we talked. We got wasted on tequilas, we both used fake IDs. We ended up at my place. It was great. I'd hoped you'd stick around after, but when I woke up, you were gone without a trace. Should've figured you're one for dramatic exits, your wounded, hunted doe-eyes should've clued me in. You didn't leave a message, no phone number, nothing. Just your bra."

So that's where I lost it. Damn, that was my favorite one. "Good for you." I say, deadpan. "It was terribly trashy." he retorts, then suddenly turns his head, and stares me straight in the eyes. Damn those eyes. "I still have it though."

I roll my eyes."Oh boy, you're not gonna go one about how you thought what we had was special, you felt a connection between us, and how it meant so much to you, and how I rocked your world and yadda yadda yadda, are you? Don't think I haven't heard that one before, 'cause I have, about a billion times. Terribly original. I could do without the spiel, thank you very much." I drawl. He looks hurt. I haven't felt so satisfied in a while. Hurting people comes naturally to me. It makes me feel powerful. Worthless, but powerful.

"Sorry, honey, but if you want me to tell you how great you were, you'll be disappointed. I've done better. I've _seen _better." My gaze travels south.

"I usually don't do the same boy twice, but if you promise that you've improved since the last time, I might give it a shot. But don't think I'm looking for a relationship, sweetie, because there's nothing I want less."

New Boy looks flushed and angry, but only for a moment. He underestimated me, probably because of the doe-eyes. However, he quickly gets a grip on himself. He takes a step closer and I take one back, trying to avoid physical contact. I feel the cold stone of the wall in my back, and he puts his hands next to my shoulders on the wall, effectively caging me, and keeping me from walking away, leaning forward. Until his head is inches from mine.

"It's Natsume." he whispers into my ear, then he takes a deep breath. "You still smell like you did that night. Like honey, so sweet."

My heart is beating fast, because I don't like him being so close. My hands are sweaty, I'm as close to a nervous breakdown as I've ever been. I can deal with physical intimacy, but only if I initiated it, if I am in control. He's way too close for my liking.

"Get out of my face." I tell him, angry. He doesn't budge. My heart beats so fast I think I might explode, its beat reverberating through my body. I can feel my blood rush through my body, it drowns out all noise. To regain control over my body, I press my nails into my palms, and the pain calms me.

"You know, I really liked you. The way you felt when I touched you. I couldn't get you out of my head for month, so I kept going back to that bar, looking for you. You never returned there."

"Yeah, what a sob story. I'm sure somewhere out there you'll find someone who cares to hear it. Not me, though, hun." I sneer.

"It's Natsume." he says flatly.

"Yeah, good for you, you said that already."

"Why do you try to keep everyone at a distance?" he asks. I feel the urge to slap him for his audacity. "Don't go all psycho analysis on me now, _Natsume_." I stress out his name to rile him up. He smirks.

For a while, he doesn't say anything. Silence ensues. He wants me to do the first step, I can tell. Fine, I just want this to be over.

"What is it you want, asshole?" I do him the favor of asking.

"You." he replies simply. I fight the urge to scream at him. "I like you. For some reason, I have this picture of you in my head, like you're my ideal woman, and it won't go away. Come one, if it's sex you want, I can give you that."

I sigh deeply and close my eyes. "God, you're not in love with me or anything, are you?"I put as much derision into my voice as I can muster.

"Don't flatter yourself." he mutters. "So, are we on?"

"Promise you'll leave me alone if I give you the time of the day?"

"I promise not to bother you in school anymore if we meet up. Deal?" He backs off, and extends his hand toward me. "Sure. Whatever." Ignoring his proffered hand, I push past him.

"Your number?" he asks.

I wave him off and start walking away. "Just asks some of the boys 'round here. I'm sure they'll be happy to oblige."

That boy is trouble. I just know it. But he gets under my skin. For the first time in weeks, I feel agitated. I feel.

Alive.

**A/N: **Ah, don't say anything, I know this one shot sucks. A lot. And nothing happens, not really. It's mostly just setting up the characters and things to come. I just realized that the title isn't really that fitting, but I like it, and am too lazy to change it now. Anyhow, hope you could find it in you to enjoy the one shot, somewhat!

As to your review, **y-icey**, I totally didn't realize that! Thanks for pointing it out, I'm guess I'm just wired that way, and the only stuff I can write is dramatic and sad. Wow, I wonder what that must say about me lol. Anyway, thanks a lot for the review! **July Passion**, thanks for your feedback as well. I love that people love what I write, and I love writing it. ;)

Like I said, reviews are appreciated and sweeten my days ;)


	5. Trouble Lurking

_**v. **_**Trouble lurking**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**"_M_**ikan Sakura always landed on her feet, however tall the tree she had climbed, and however tough the challenge she might have to face; she wouldn't let some insolent, up-his-own-arse jerk make her feel inferior or bad about herself."

**.**

**.**

**.**

"May I ask for the dance?"

Surprised, Mikan looked up from the glass of champagne that she had been cradeling in her hands for the last thirty minutes. She was counting the minutes to get out of here, to leave this stupid pompous ball behind. Frowning, she took the stranger's appearance in. He looked familiar, but she couldn't pinpoint exactly where she'd seen him before.

"Miss Sakura?" His proffered hand hovered awkwardly in the space between them. "What is it? I mean...excuse me? What were you saying?" Mikan sputtered, absent-mindedly.

"I asked you if you would do me the honor of dancing this dance with me?" he repeated, and started smirking. Mikan blushed as it started to dawn on her who this man was. She recalled spilling her beverage all over his attire two weeks ago at Lady Haywood's soiree. She still remembered every conversation around her stilling as she desperately tried to apologize to him, scandalized faces turned in their direction, and she, painfully aware of the huge mess she'd caused, a bumbling fool. She didn't know much about him, only that he was apparently considered the catch of the season, came from a wealthy family, and was a well-respected member of society; a refined gentleman.

"Dance? With me?" she echoed, her mind a million miles away. She blinked, trying to concentrate on the situation. "Of course, yes. I mean, yes, it would be a pleasure to dance with you, Mr...uh..." She flushed as the raven-haired gentleman led her to the middle of the ball room, put his hands on her back, and waited for the tact of the waltz to start. She avoided his gaze, knowing how terribly rude it was of her to have forgotten his name.

As they gently started waltzing, she felt him examining her. She looked up hesitantly, expecting him to look bored or worse, irritated, but she found him smirking. She wondered if his facial features were frozen in a constant smirk, and if he was even capable of any other expression.

He cocked an eyebrow, and Mikan took a deep breath, causing her corseted bosom to press against his chest. She instantly let all the air rush out of her lungs, and had to resist the urge to bury her burning face in her hands. She was aware of her own ineptitude, and how he must be conceiving her rudeness. She had not only forgotten his name, but didn't even make an effort to initiate a pleasant conversation. She spared a glimpse at her chaperone, an old family friend, who nodded at her and smiled encouragingly.

Mikan straightened up and immediately felt taller and braver, and pasted a bright, false smile on her face.

"I'm terribly sorry to inform you." Mikan told her dancing partner graciously. "But your name seems to have slipped my mind."

"Indeed?" he retorted, and Mikan was sure to detect a hint of amusement in his voice. "Well, it is good then that I still remember yours, Miss Sakura."

Mikan waited a few beats, but the man didn't seem inclined to disclose his name. How inconceivably frustrating!, Mikan thought. "Well?" she hinted politely, giving him another opportunity to clue her in. "Well?" he repeated, cocking his blasted eyebrow again.

"Your name! Won't you reveal it to me?" "I don't feel particularly inclined to do that, as a matter of fact. But enough about me now, Miss Sakura. Let us talk about you and your lacking manners." He smiled benignly, his expression in stark contrast to the venom coating his voice. Mikan's jaw dropped. If at first this gentleman had seemed condescending and unpleasant, she was now convinced he was the most infuriating creature she had ever had the misfortune and displeasure of meeting.

"I'm afraid I do not know what you're getting at, Sir." she told him primly, dead set on not showing him that he had gotten to her, and doing her best to contain the mortification she was feeling.

"Let me clue you in then, Miss Sakura: You not only lack in beauty, charm, and education, but also in grace, manners, and as it seems to be the case, common sense. You would do good to mind your own station, and not get in the way of those superior to you." His voice was quiet, smooth, and the epitome of smug confidence. Mikan saw malice glistening in his eyes, his mouth set in the perpetual smirk, his trademark expression.

Tears of rage threatened to overspill. But Mikan wouldn't give him the satisfaction of bursting into tears in the middle of the crowded ball room, with every pair of eyes on them. She would leave this fight, and this battlefield that constituted the dance floor, dignified. She refused to let him have the upper hand. Her pride refused to let this insult go without showing him what he was getting himself into.

Mikan Sakura always landed on her feet, however tall the tree she had climbed and would have to jump down, and however tough the challenge she might have to face; she wouldn't let some insolent, up-his-own-arse jerk make her feel inferior or bad about herself. Just because he was considered above her by society, had an ever-expanding ego, and was probably more wealthy than her whole family combined (not to forget the fact that he was a man; his sex had always been prone to bouts of imagined superiority), didn't give him any right to put her down. His self-importance disgusted her.

She wouldn't put her family's name to shame any more than she already had. He needed to be put into place himself, and she was just the person to conduct that feat.

The chap was an annoyance and she was about to show him that she wasn't easy prey. If trouble came lurking, Mikan would be prepared. And this guy definitely qualified as trouble. As the last tact of the waltz faded, Mikan dropped his hands, smoothed her gown, and looked up to find him watching her, a condescending smirk in place.

She donned her brightest smile, came a step closer, clearly catching him off-guard, and whispered, putting all the menace she could muster into her voice, "You would do good not to underestimate me, Sir, or you might find yourself not liking the consequences." Then she deliberately stepped on his foot––hard, putting all her weight into the step––turned around, and swept away, leaving a speechless Natsume Hyuuga standing, on his own, in the middle of the dance floor, among lingering pairs of dancers who were oblivious to the scene that had just taken place, her gown rustling over the floor in her wake.

**A/N:** This takes place before Illusion, if you hadn't noticed. It is rather short, I know, but oh well. Hope you like it. As you know, reviews are always appreciated. ;)


	6. I Can't

**_vi_. I Can't**

**.**

**.**

**.**

Natsume was out running errands today; a boring, unspectacular, uneventful Saturday. He had only one chore left to finish and couldn't wait to get it over with and go home. Namely, grocery shopping. Since he had forgotten to ask his girlfriend, Mikan, if she wanted anything in particular this morning, he decided to be a cavalier today and check if she did now.

Entering the store, he grabbed a shopping cart, dialled her number, and pushed the cart through the shelves, stopping next to the occasionally one to grab the items on display he found on his shopping list.

"Yes? Natsume, is that you?" Mikan's voice sounded muffled. He frowned, as her tone was usually cheery. "Yeah, it's me. You okay? Listen, I'm at the store, do you need anything?" Mikan didn't answer at once, which he took as a sign of her considering his offer.

"Well, if you're offering... As a matter of fact, I do. Please, I need Brownie Fudge ice-cream, a new hair brush, apples, muffins, and...uh, let me think, I know I'm missing something...what was it again..." Impatiently, Natsume tapped his foot, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling. "You can call me back once you think of it." he said, trying to end the call, desperate to get home and relax.

"No, no, I know, I almost got it, I'm this close. Please, help me out here, would you?" she pleaded. "Help you with what exactly? Thinking?" he said drily, pulling the phone from his ear to check the time. Close to 6 pm.

"Natsume, why are you being so mean?" Mikan's voice shook, and Natsume froze. Uh uh. This didn't bode well. If Mikan used that voice, it was a clear indication that she was an emotional and whiny state of emotion. He needed to treat carefully here "Yeah, sorry, I'm just tired. So, what was it you needed? Something to eat?" He wanted to get this over with badly.

"No, no, nothing of that sort. But it was important..." She pondered this for a while, during which time Natsume grew increasingly annoyed. "Mikan..." he said, warningly.

"What is it, Natsume?" she snapped abrasively. Natsume was astonished by her sudden outbreak of anger.

Today hadn't been a very pleasant day to begin with, but it seemed to be taking a turn for the worse at the moment. Natsume ran one hand through his dark hair, collecting himself, before he said "Okay, Mikan, if it's not that important, we can still head out lat-"

"Hah!" Mikan's triumphant voice cut him off, her mood swung from angry to good-humored, catching him off guard. "I got it! I got it! Okay, Natsume, I really need tampons. Please, get my a box, will you." Natsume froze, the phone almost sliding out of his hand before he caught it. "Okay then, Natsume, see you th-"

This time, it was Natsume's turn to cut her off.

"No, wait! I just want to make one thing clear; I am not buying you tampons! Anything but that!" His exclamation was met with silence on the other end.

"Natsume, don't be difficult now!" Natsume almost laughed out loud. _He _wasn't the one being difficult here. "No, Mikan, we talked about this! I will not-"

"Natsume, you are _such _a jerk. I'm asking you to do one thing for me, and you won't do it? I thought you wanted to do something for me?" Mikan sounded angry again, her breathing becoming laboured.

"Look, calm down. I'm not going to talk about this now, at the grocery store!" he retorted, weary and annoyed. He looked around him, and noticed that people had already started to stare. He had spoken too loudly, he realized.

"But I need them now!" She shrieked. "Natsume, you are being so selfish! You never do anything for me." Natsume eyebrows shot up and he counted silently to ten to regain his composure, before answering.

"Mikan! I will deal with you PMSing later, I really want to come home now!" he stated. His voice was pleading, a desperate nore had sneaked in. "I AM NOT PMSING." Mikan screamed into his ear. He winced.

Oh no, that had been the wrong thing to say. He had unleashed the fury of hell on himself. He was too tired to fight now. What had he done to deserve this?

"Mikan? I'm going to hang up now, okay?" "Don't you **dare **hanging up on me." she shouted. "I need tampons!"

"Yes, and I need a break.", he snarled into the phone. "But do I get one? No! Because I'm stuck having this stupid conversation with you moron." Silence. When Mikan spoke again, her voice shook.

Oh no. _Don' t cry, please don't cry,_ Natsume prayed.

His prayers went unheard, and all his silent pleading was in vain, because Mikan started sobbing noisily. "Oh no, polka! Don't cry!" he said into the phone, desperate, turning away from the old woman who had started watching him bemusedly.

"You don't r-really lo-ho-ve me." she sobbed. Natsume couldn't bear to hear her cry without panicking or getting a bad conscience. Even if it wasn't even his fault that his emotional girlfriend started crying, he felt bad. But now, he was somewhat at fault, he admitted begrudgingly to himself, and he had no one to blame but himself (Natsume loved blaming other's). And perhaps maybe Mikan's hormones.

"Of course I love you, don't be silly!" he reassured her, resting himself against a shelf, causing the old woman to frown at him disapprovingly. At this point, he couldn't care less.

"If you did, you wouldn't insult me all the time!" she complained, still crying. "Be reasonable, Mikan! You know I love you. And you know I'm prone to insulting people. And with people, I mean you. Now don't make a big deal out of this. I'm currently standing in a public place. Where people might overhear this conversation." he emphasized.

"I don't care. Why is it you always care what others think, Natsume? You care too much what other think of you and too little what **I** think of you!" Now she was being nonsensical. Natsume wondered if she was even aware of it. Mikan started rambling when she got angry, or sad, or emotional. Or drunk.

"You know I don't care what other think of me." he told her, with forced patience. "In that case, why won't you buy me my boy of tampons?" she demanded, smug. Damn, she had him there.

"It's a matter of principle." he explained, switching the phone to his other ear.

"You are such a jerk, Natsume. I don't know what I ever saw in you." Mikan wailed, and started sobbing again. "Please, Mikan, get a grip!" Natsume hissed into the phone. The sobbing stopped, and Mikan sniffed. Then she said "You know what, Natsume? I think you were right. I was being silly." She declared. Natsume sighed happily. "Great, Mikan, thank God we got that over with and now I can-"

She didn't let him finish.

"I don't know why I ever thought this thing between us could work out. You're not the person I thought you were. I don't think I can do this anymore." She sniffed again.

"Wait! Are you breaking up with me?" he shouted into the phone, not caring that every single customer in the godforsaken store was openly staring at him now. "Yes, I guess I am." Mikan replied, and started sobbing again.

"You're breaking up with me because I won't buy you a box of tampons?" Natsume asked, his mind numb, incredulously. "I'm sorry, Natsume, I'm really sorry!"

"You are not breaking up with me because I won't buy you a goddamn box of goddamn tampons!" he exclaimed, his voice rising with each word. "Natsume, please, don't make this any harder than it needs to be!" his girlfriend, or rather, ex-girlfriend, sobbed. "Goodbye, Natsume. I loved you once." Then she hung up on him.

Natsume stared at his phone for a few minutes, in shock. Someone approached him from behind and patted his shoulder. "Take it easy, bro. You'll find another one. I bet you're real popular with the ladies!" But Natsume didn't want anyone else. He wanted his Mikan. Always had, always would. No matter how many temper tantrums she threw because he wouldn't consent to buying her sanitary articles.

Defeated, he finished his purchase, putting ten different brands of tampons into the cart. _Fuck this_, he thought.

"You're whipped, man!" the cashier told him, pity in his eyes. Natsume grumbled an insult, left the store and drove home. He really _was _whipped, he realized. Another realization hit him soon after; he couldn't find it in himself to care. As long as he had his girl by his side, he would consent to every dumb plan and notion she could come up with. Probably. Even if they involved tampons.

* * *

When he entered their flat, he heard loud sobs coming from the living room and echoing of the walls.

He dropped the bags in the kitchen and followed the strangled sounds. Mikan sat on the sofa, a pillow pressed to her chest and cried miserably into a tissue. She wore a short, thin night-gown and Natsume swallowed as he stared at her long, white legs. He sat down next to her carefully and held a box of tampons out to her as a peace-offering. She looked up, saw him and started crying even harder.

Natsume sighed, sat down next to her and pulled her head to his chest. "Sorry." he mumbled into her hair. "I love you."

"I know." Mikan replied teary-eyed, and used his shirt to wipe her eyes and her snotty nose. Again, he found himself not caring. "I don't want to break up with you." she told him, throwing her arms around his neck and snuggling into his chest, her hands grabbing the fabric of his shirt.

"I'm glad." Natsume said sardonically.

"Thanks for the tampons." Mikan mumbled. Her tears had ceased dropping, yet her brown eyes were red-rimmed and her cheeks bloated. She looked like a mess, and Natsume still wanted to kiss her like crazy. Mikan peeked up at him through her wet lashes, smiling tentatively. "That wasn't so bad, was it? Buying them, I mean."

"I think I lost some of my dignity, but as you can see, I survived." Natsume allowed. "But I sure hope that was the last break-up we went through this month, okay? You know what they say, third time's the charm."

"Promise." Mikan smiled, and her cold hand crept beneath his shirt as she pressed a wet kiss on his jaw, engulfing him in her scent of lemon and citrus fragrance. Natsume soon let her distract him. The good think about Mikan breaking up with him was that afterwards, she was always eager to make it up to him.

**A/N: **I know, this oneshot is silly, not very good, and kind of rushed. Hope you like it anyway. You know, feedback is appreciated, and a thank you to everyone who reviewed and favorited.


	7. All My Fault

**_vii. _All My Fault**

**.**

**.**

**.**

Mikan tries her hands at being Emma. Disaster ensues.

**.**

**.**

**.**

_"I bet you never thought you would fall again_  
_So much for keeping this just friends_  
_Shut up and kiss me now"_

_For Baltimore _by All Time Low

**.**

**.**

**.**

"**_I_** am so tired of being single, Mikan, like you wouldn't even belief." Sumire sighed into the receiver of her cell, and threw herself onto her mattress, or at least Mikan thought that was what she did, judging from the sound of creaking of bedsprings she could hear coming through the line.

"Then you should do something about it." Mikan advised, feeling as if she was stating the obvious, her phone squeezed between her cheek and her shoulder, her hands otherwise occupied. Namely, painting her toenails a bright orange color with the fanciful name _Tango Dancing Tangerine_.

"Duh!" Sumire snapped, and Mikan pictured her dark-haired friend rolling her pretty eyes. "But finding the right guy isn't as easy as all that, you know?" Mikan didn't, considering she had never had a boyfriend before, and was just about to tell Sumire so when Sumire continued. "Which, of course, you don't, seeing as you've got Natsume and all!"

Ah, Natsume, one of Sumire's favorite subjects. Natsume was a mutual friend (or rather, a mutual acquaintance, the term friend being used lightly here, as Natsume had repeatedly told Mikan he couldn't stand Sumire), and Sumire had somewhat of a crush on him. Like most people, she was deceived by the frequent misconception that Natsume and Mikan were dating, which Mikan was always fast to assure her friend was not the case. ("Promise you're not dating him? Do you swear it on your life? Nah, you're kidding right? You guys are dating! Please tell me you're not dating, because that means I might have a shot!")

Regardless of the fact that Mikan and Natsume weren't dating, but were simply the best of friends, Natsume also didn't allow any guys anywhere near Mikan. He was, much to Mikan's chagrin and everyone else's amusement, "adorably protective", as the latter called him, and "horribly bossy", as the former preferred to insist.

Of course, it should be mentioned here that Natsume was considered by many to be "one fine specimen", or more accurately "a fine piece of ass", or simply "drop-dead gorgeous". Mikan had heard it all, and her response to most of the phrases was a non-committal shrug, and sometimes she even deigned to voice a "Really? I hadn't noticed." (Which, naturally, was a lie, because it was impossible not to see how gorgeous Natsume was. Mikan was simply loath to stroke his ego and be guilty of flattering his vanity.)

Sumire liked to indulge in condescending sighs that usually went along the lines of "Oh, Mikan, you don't know how lucky you are. To have such a good-looking boyfriend, I would give both my legs!" ("Really, both your legs? I wouldn't wish for that, if I were you. Firstly, it's inconsiderate to people without legs, you know, and secondly, be careful what you wish for, or you might just get it." Mikan objected once. As per usual, Sumire settled for rolling her eyes, and drawled, "It's just a figure of speech, Mikan, _jeezus._ It's not to be taken seriously. _Gawd_!" Yes, Sumire did indeed have a mean streak.) or "Too bad Natsume is too much in love with you to realize how awesome I am." ("Yeah, admittedly, you are kind of awesome, but I think you puking all over his shoes that one time in ninth grade put him off you permanently." the brunette interjected.)

"So, basically, you just called me to whine about your love life." Mikan deduced. "My non-existent love life." corrected Sumire, not bothering to dispute the rest of Mikan's statement. "Uh-huh." Mikan said, moving on to the nails of her left foot after she was done with the right one. "Mikan, why do I get the feeling you're not really into this conversation? Being a little bit more sympathetic here wouldn't hurt you, okay? Not everyone has as easy a life as you do."

Which was ironic coming from Sumire, who was not only prettier, but also richer, and more popular than Mikan.

"I refuse to be a guest at your pity party." Mikan told her friend, her forehead creased in concentration, her tongue stuck between her lips, as she was busy painting her pinkie toe.

"You are such a bad friend." Sumire whined. "Uh-huh." Mikan said, again, not really listening. "But I thought, maybe you could ask Natsume if he knows someone he could set me up with? I mean, aren't all his friends, like, super _hawt_? (Not as hot as he is, of course.)"

"I don't know about that." Mikan replied, doubtful, not making the effort to specify what she didn't know.

"Come one, pretty please?" Sumire had resumed to begging, something she was usually too proud to do, which tipped Mikan off that Sumire was a) really desperate or b) really bored.

Defeated, Mikan, devoted friend she was, heaved a sigh. "Look, I'll think of something, alright?"

Sumire squealed loudly into the phone, and the gushing commenced. "_Ohmygawd_, Mikan. You are the best friend, like, ever. I'm serious. I owe you, big time!" That said, Sumire had exhausted the extent of her gratitude, and ended the call without bothing to say goodbye. "That's right." Mikan murmured.

Stupefied, but relieved, Mikan threw her phone onto the duvet, blew onto her toenails to make them dry faster (before she remembered that you weren't supposed to do that because that way, the nail polish didn't dry properly), and angled for her laptop that sat on the floor next to her bed.

* * *

_To: _Natsumehyuuga

_From: _Mikancherry

_Subject Matter: _Awesome!

_Body:_ I just had the awesomest idea ever. Wanna hear it? Text me!

* * *

_To: _Mikancherry

_From: _Natsumehyuuga

_Subject Matter: _Re: Awesome!

_Body: _No.

* * *

_To: _Natsumehyuuga

_From: _Mikancherry

_Subject Matter: _Re: Awesome!

_Body:_ What do you mean, no?

* * *

_To: _Mikancherry

_From: _Natsumehyuuga

_Subject Matter: _Re: Awesome!

_Body:_ No, as in, it isn't awesome. No, as in, I don't wanna hear it. No, as in, I refuse to use a polysyllable word in response to your using the word awesomest.

* * *

_To: _Natsumehyuuga

_From: _Mikancherry

_Subject Matter: _Re: Awesome!

_Body_: Aww, you're grouchy. :( Also, how do you know it's not awesome. It totally is! Also, awesomest is a word, dude, I told you.

* * *

_To: _Mikancherry

_From: _Natsumehyuuga

_Subject Matter: _Re: Awesome!

_Body: _No.

* * *

_To: _Natsumehyuuga

_From: _Mikancherry

_Subject Matter: _Re: Awesome!

_Body_: I'm going to bug you with this until you listen. How come you are doubting my ability to come up with plans that aren't the epitome of awesome? You should know me better than this!

* * *

_To: _Mikancherry

_From: _Natsumehyuuga

_Subject Matter: _Re: Awesome!

_Body_: I know you better than anyone, which is why I doubt you. Want some proof? Remember your "awesome idea" that involved throwing Ruka a surprise birthday party that ended with him being hospitalized? And remember that one time you accidentally set your house on fire when you were dead-set on learning how to be a fire-eater? Or that one time you took that hobo home and he tried to rob you? Want to hear more? Because I've got more.

* * *

_To: _Natsumehyuuga

_From: _Mikancherry

_Subject Matter: _Re: Awesome!

_Body_: This time it's different, I swear. I assure you, you're going to love it!

* * *

_To: _Mikancherry

_From: _Natsumehyuuga

_Subject Matter: _Re: Awesome!

_Body_: Okay, let's hear it.

* * *

_To: _Natsumehyuuga

_From: _Mikancherry

_Subject Matter: _Re: Awesome!

_Body_: Sumire just called me, and she wants me to set her up with some of your friends. The problem is, none of them is good enough for her, but I've got someone who would be, idk, her equal, and I'm sure they are going to be awesome together. Remember, Yuu? The two of them would be the cutest couple since you and Nobara happened!

* * *

_To: _Mikancherry

_From: _Natsumehyuuga

_Subject Matter: _Re: Awesome!

_Body_: No, absolutely not, this is bound to fail. Mikan, you do realize that Yuu is gay? Let's set her up with Koko, he likes her.

P.S: Nobara and I didn't date, okay? That was a misunderstanding.

* * *

_To: _Natsumehyuuga

_From: _Mikancherry

_Subject Matter: _Re: Awesome!

_Body_: Pfft, fail, you don't know anything about match-making, Natsume. You need womanly intuition for that, something I have in spades. Koko is too facetious for Sumire. She needs someone who is calm, serious, and intense. Just admit it, I'm a genius.

P.S: Anyways, you guys were so cute together.

* * *

_To: _Mikancherry

_From: _Natsumehyuuga

_Subject Matter: _Re: Awesome!

_Body_: Mikan, I'm calling it now, this is bound to end in disaster.

* * *

_To: _Natsumehyuuga

_From: _Mikancherry

_Subject Matter: _Re: Awesome!

_Body_: Oh, shut up, you. This will be awesome. You'll see.

* * *

"Is he gorgeous?" Nervously, Sumire played with her dress seam, unable to sit still. She wore a green lace dress that complimented her eyes, her hair in a complicated up-do, her feet were clad in high heels. Next her, Mikan felt like she looked like a hobo, because she wore old, deliberately cut shorts and a plain, white blouse. Of course, she didn't realize that Natsume, who sat opposite her, couldn't take his eyes off her, almost like she was light and his eyes two naughty moths.

They were waiting for Yuu Tobita, a mutual friend of Natsume and Mikan's, who Natsume insisted was gay, Mikan thought was perfect for Sumire, but who was actually, and always had been, in love with Mikan. (If Natsume had known that, he would never have consented to the plan.)

"Oh, yes, very handsome." Mikan assured her nervous friend, taking the liberty to slightly exaggerate. Yuu was cute in a nerdy way. "I told you, you'll love him." Sumire looked unconvinced. Mikan decided that a little white lie couldn't hurt to reassure her friend that everything would work out for the best. "He told me he has always admired you from afar, and can't wait to meet you." Now at least, Sumire looked pleased.

Natsume, however, had decided to wait by the sidelines until the whole thing had ended and inevitably taken them to hell, where he would then make his move and fix everything, as usual.

"If he weren't so in love with you, I'd date Yuu myself." Mikan declared, beaming at Sumire. Behind her, Yuu, who had just arrived and heard her last words, blushed to the soles of his feet, and Natsume had to hide his laugh behind a cough. If he hadn't been so convinced Yuu was gay, he would probably have been jealous, but he figured that would be a waste of effort.

Sumire still looked wore a smug expression, but it only lasted until her eyes fell on Yuu, then she froze. "Is that...?" she pointed at Yuu, and Mikan turned around to see what she was pointing at. When she saw Yuu, she beamed at him, and beckoned him to come closer. Sumire looked scandalized, which Mikan failed to recognize, but which did not escape Natsume's notice. This was doomed to fail, he just knew it.

"Hi, Yuu. You look great!" Mikan squealed enthusiastically and engulfed him in a hug, which Natsume wouldn't have let slide under different circumstances. But he refrained from intervening, for obvious reasons, and because he enjoyed watching the whole shebang unfold.

When Mikan let Yuu go, he looked flushed and mumbled an intelligible hello in the vague direction of Natsume. Sumire, he overlooked completely. After the introduction, Mikan dragged her unwilling entourage after her to the cinema. Although she evidently tried to make up for the lack of excitement with bubbliness and cheerfulness, she couldn't quite cover up the feeling of unease that had settled over them. Natsume looked on amused as Mikan babbled good-naturedly, while Yuu stared at her, mesmerized, and Sumire looked pissed.

After they had picked a film, the seating arrangement were discussed (Sumire had dragged Mikan a little feet away from the boys to tell her that she wanted to sit next to Natsume if she had to sit next to Yuu as well. It completely escaped Mikan's notice that Sumire didn't seem to like Mikan's choice of boyfriend for her. And though Natsume insisted he wanted to sit next to Mikan, she talked him out of it by promising him a favor), and ending up looking thusly: Natsume (much to his chagrin); Sumire (much to her delight); Yuu (stammering upon his close proximity to Mikan); Mikan (pretty much oblivious to her surroundings).

Before the movie started, Mikan received a message, which she (tried to) read discreetly.

* * *

_From_: Natsume

_To_: Mikan

_Body_: You did tell Yuu that he is supposed to be meeting his future girlfriend today, right?

* * *

_From_: Mikan

_To_: Natsume

_Body_: Of course not, silly. He wouldn't have come otherwise, he's much too shy. I told him it was just a friendly meeting, that I wanted to meet him, and that you brought Sumire. You really have no idea about boys, do you? Thank god you are one and don't need to think about yourself and your sex too much. It isn't easy figuring out how boys think. You should be glad you have me to decode their thinking pattern for you.

* * *

_From_: Natsume

_To_: Mikan

_Body_: Thank God I have you to learn from, oh wise one. I bet I'd be lost without your intricate knowledge of the male psyche.

* * *

_From_: Mikan

_To_: Natsume

_Body_: You can put your sarcasm where the sun doesn't shine.

* * *

Looking up, Mikan saw that Yuu was watching her. She smiled at him, but noticed with concern that Sumire was chatting animatedly with Natsume. She frowned. This was not how this was supposed to work. Natsume wasn't meant to talk to her, he was supposed to stick to his part of the plan, and try to get Sumire and Yuu to engage in a witty conversation that caused them to realize they were madly in love with each other.

"So, are you and Natsume dating?" Yuu asked shyly, disrupting her thoughts. Mikan laughed loudly, earning her annoyed glances from people sitting in their close vicinity.

"Oh, hell, no. He's more into girls like Sumire, you know, high maintenance, elegance, totally pretty, all that jazz."

Yuu nodded. Then he said, very quietly "I think you are very pretty, Mikan." But before she could answer him, he continued "So, is Natsume dating Sumire, then?"

Mikan had to keep from exulting. He was jealous! After having just met Sumire! Things were looking really good, much better than she had anticipated. Leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek and putting her head on his shoulder, she gave "Oh, don't you worry about that." as an answer, meaning to dispel his worries about Natsume and Yuu's (hopefully) future girlfriend.

Yuu flushed a deep red. Two seats to the right, Natsume looked alarmed when he saw Mikan kissing Yuu. He told himself not to worry since Yuu was gay after all. At least, he had always assumed so, since Yuu had shown no interest in any girls whatsoever. But what if he had been wrong? He knew what people said about assuming, but usually his gaydar was pretty spot on.

It took some time for Mikan to realize things didn't work out the way she had planned (because they had reverted back to Mikan-Yuu and Sumire-Natsume interactions, much to Natsume's annoyance, because he would gladly disregard Sumire if he could only talk to his Mikan) but when she did, she jumped from her seat in consternation and announced loudly that she would be going to the toilet, while staring intently at Natsume and willing him silently to join her. "Okay?" Sumire said, when Mikan still stood before them several seconds later, and hadn't moved an inch. "Natsume needs to come." Mikan said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world to ask a boy to come to the rest-room with you. Even Natsume looked taken aback, and it took a lot of Mikan's antics to surprise or upset him.

Yuu stared on in dismay. "What, exactly, do you require my assistance for?" Natsume asked her, speaking slowly. Mikan rolled er eyes at him, like it was his fault that he didn't get it, while Sumire didn't even try to keep track of their usual weirdness and had started scrolling through her cell.

"To show me the way, of course." Mikan replied, rolling her eyes, grabbing his hand, and pulling him behind her out of the room. "We'll be right back, you two. Don't hold back!" she called. Yuu looked puzzled, Sumire flat-out ignored her.

"What was that about?" Natsume inquired suspiciously once they had left the room, and leaned on the walls next to the door.

"To give the two of the some privacy, silly." Mikan was surprised that she had to explain this to Natsume. "You really don't know anything about love, do you?" She looked at him pityingly. Grinning, Natsume refrained from pointing out the irony of her statement to her, who he had been in love with for years and who still hadn't grasped it and remained oblivious to his feelings.

"It's not working out the way I planned." Mikan complained, frowning. "Why is that?"

"Maybe because you couldn't have found two people who have less in common than those two?" He suggested, but Mikan didn't even consider it.

"It must be your fault. You're distracting Sumire. You know perfectly well she likes you, you should be more considerate, for Yuu's sake and hers, and leave her alone."

"You dragged me into this, Mikan." he pointed out, exasperated.

"Whatever. Yuu got jealous of you, though, that means he isn't gay, right?"

"Well, he could be in love with me." Natsume shrugged. Mikan laughed. "Don't be stupid. Who would be stupid enough to be in love with you? You're ego is too big for our universe to contain, and you're a jerk, always moody, and an unbearable know-it-all."

Overcome by a sudden burst of affection (triggered by her insulting him, which he rightfully took as a sign of affection), Natsume grabbed her hand and pulled a surprised Mikan to his chest, hugging her to him. With closed eyes, he breathed in her sweet smell of spring and the expensive cinnamon perfume he had given her as a gift last christmas (which she still mocked him for months later, but he liked the smell, especially on her). Struggling against his iron grip, she said "You're unbearably clingy lately." Stilling, she looked up to his eyes, suddenly concerned. "You're okay, right? You're not...sick or something? You know I worry about you."

"No, I'm fine, don't worry about me, polka." he murmured, enjoying her closeness to him. He relaxed completely when he felt her putting her arms around his shoulders, returning the hug.

"You're my best friend, Natsume. I'd be lost without you." Her voice was muffled by the fabric of his shirt. Forcing his face to stop smiling, he released her, and poked her in the cheek. "I know, polka. But thanks for saying it anyway. And as your best friend, I feel obliged to point out that Sumire and Yuu are not working out as a couple, and that the whole thing will backfire on you."

Mikan pursed her lips and shoved him playfully. "Yes, it will work out." she insisted, her stare challenging. "Wanna bet?"

"Sure." Natsume shrugged. "So, if I win, you'll pay for my lunch for the rest of the year, and If you win..?"

Considering this, Natsume answered "I'll think of something later. Such important decisions shouldn't be taken lightly."

"Fine, suit yourself." Mikan replied generously, misguidedly convinced of her victory and the impending vacancy of Natsume's wallet.

* * *

_To: _Mikancherry

_From: _Sumirerockz

_Subject Matter: _You have got to be kidding me!

_Body_: I can't believe you tried to set me up with a nerd! Are you for real? I asked you to ask Natsume about one of his hot friends, and you get me an anorexic geek? You're lucky I'm a forgiving kind of person, or this friendships would be over sooner than you can say "Sumire Shoda is much awesomer than I am."

_Jeezus_, Mikan. No way am I going out with that loser again.

* * *

_To: _Sumirerockz

_From: _Mikancherry

_Subject Matter: _Re: You have got to be kidding me!

_Body_: Come on, Sumire, give him another chance. He's really into you, he told me so himself. (Kind of, you know, he's shy but he basically told me so in a roundabout way.) He's awed by your beauty, charm, and elegance. We set up another date for next Sunday. You in?

* * *

_To: _Mikancherry

_From: _Sumirerockz

_Subject Matter: _Re:You have got to be kidding me!

_Body_: No way am I gonna be there. There's no bribe grand enough to get me to come. If you like him that much, you can date him yourself. But at least he has good taste; I'm awesome, aren't I? Btw, is Natsume gonna be there too?

* * *

_To: _Sumirerockz

_From: _Mikancherry

_Subject Matter: _Re: You have got to be kidding me!

_Body_: Please? You won't regret it, I swear, give him another chance. I kinda already told him you'd be there so...you don't want to disappoint Yuu, do you?

Of course Natsume is gonna be there, he even insisted on it. You know him, he's a right romantic at heart and wouldn't miss watching your budding love grow. Please, reconsider?

* * *

_To: _Mikancherry

_From: _Sumirerockz

_Subject Matter: _You're annoyingly persistent.

_Body_: Fine, I'll be there. He'd better blow my mind. Did Natsume say anything about me?

* * *

_To: _Sumirerockz

_From: _Mikancherry

_Subject Matter: _Re: You're annoyingly persistent.

_Body_: Aww, Yuu is gonna be so happy! What do you mean? What would Natsume be saying about you? I guess he commented on how pretty you looked but you know him, always the gentleman. Anyway, gotta run, see you around.

* * *

_To: _Mikancherry

_From: _Yuu_Tobita

_Subject Matter: _Advice?

_Body_: Hello Mikan,

I'd like to ask you for some advice? Would you be inclined to help me out?

Yours, Yuu.

* * *

_To: _Yuu_Tobita

_From: _Mikancherry

_Subject Matter: _Re: Advice?

_Body_: Sure, ask away. No need for formality. What's on your mind?

* * *

_To: _Mikancherry

_From: _Yuu_Tobita

_Subject Matter: _Much obliged!

_Body_: Mikan,

I was seeking your advice in matters concerning the heart. It's about a girl, actually, she's been sending me pretty obvious signals, like initiating physical contact, flirting, etc. Do you think she's interested in me? If so, should I take initiative?

Yuu

* * *

_To: _Yuu_Tobita

_From: _Mikancherry

_Subject Matter: _Re: Much obliged!

_Body_: I bet I know who you're talking about. :) And I can assure you, she's interested. Go for it!

Don't be shy. The next time you see her, just walk up to her, and kiss her. Girls love that kind of stuff!

Love, Mikan.

* * *

_To_: Natsumehyuuga

_From_: Sumirerockz

_Subject_:

_Body_: Hi, I know we'll be seeing each other Sunday anyway, but I wanted to know if you wanted to meet up beforehand?

* * *

_To_: Sumirerockz

_From_: Natsumehyuuga

_Subject_: ?

_Body_: What? No, why would I? Is this about Mikan?

* * *

_To_: Natsumehyuuga

_From_: Sumirerockz

_Subject_:

_Body_: Yeah, it is, in a way. So, you wanna drop by sometime later?

* * *

_To_: Mikancherry

_From_: Anna1234

_Subject_: Natsume

_Body_: Hi, Mikan, are Sumire and Natsume, like, dating?

* * *

_To_: Mikancherry

_From_: Nonoko_Blue

_Subject_: Dating?

_Body_: Why didn't you tell me Sumire and Natsume were dating? OMG, Mikan?

* * *

_To_: Anna1234

_cc_: Nonoko_Blue

_From_: Mikancherry

_Subject_:?

_Body_: What are you two talking about? Of course Natsume and Sumire aren't dating. I would know if they were. Also, Sumire happens to be dating someone else.

* * *

_To_: Mikancherry

_From_: Anna1234

_Subject_:

_Body_: Mikan, honey, someone saw them kissing.

* * *

_To_: Anna1234

_From_: Mikancherry

_Subject_:

_Body_: Impossible. I'll investigate this.

* * *

Mikan stared at her screen, shocked. Someone had sent her a picture of Natsume and Sumire. They were indeed kissing. Deeply troubled, Mikan closed her laptop, only to open it again a few seconds later. She didn't know what to feel. She was confused, because Natsume hadn't told her about it. Hurt, even, because she had always thought important things like this would be shared between them. Angry, for Yuu's sake. Angry, for her sake. Sad. And another feeling she couldn't quite place, one she always got when Natsume was talking to other girls (except Nobara, but that was a different matter entirely). Not that he did that a lot, but it happened sometimes, because, yeah, Natsume was kind of handsome, and other girls were bound to notice.

Biting down on her nails, Mikan forced herself to put her laptop away and concentrate on something different. Homework, maybe? But instead of sitting down, she began pacing her room. She should be telling Yuu about this. He was still under the impression that Sumire dated him, so he should be told. Mikan felt nauseous at the thought of Yuu being sad, and even more so when she realized she had set the whole thing in motion. Yuu was such a nice guy, he didn't deserve this.

Grabbing her jacket, Mikan left the house, heading towards where she knew Yuu lived, beating herself up over the whole thing.

She hadn't had the courage to talk to Natsume about what happened, but the more she thought about it, the angrier she got. What had he been thinking? He knew Yuu and Sumire were heading somewhere, and he decided to just go ahead and kiss her anyway? Just because he wanted to win the stupid bet?

Furious, she punched his number into her phone and waited for him to pick up. When he did, she didn't hesitate and started yelling at him right off the bat.

"Natsume, you are the biggest prick I've ever...I can't believe you...I really thought you were better than...I can't even think straight right now. But you disgust me. I'm at a loss for words, but I want you to know you're a lying, cheating son of a bitch, and you deserve all the wrath of everyone who was ever cheated on. I can't believe you'd do this too poor Yuu. I hate you!"

To Mikan's utter mortification, tears started spilling out of her eyes, and made her voice break. "You are an ass, Natsume, you just went and hurt all the people who cared about you. I hope you burn in hell. Goodbye." And without giving him the chance to reply, she hung up, and turned her phone off.

A few miles away, a speechless Natsume stared at his cell, and wondered what the hell just happened.

Sniffling, Mikan tried to repair the damage inflicted on her eye make-up without ruining it anymore than she already had, and walked up to Yuu's door, ringing the door bell. One can only imagine Mikan's surprise when Yuu, upon opening the door and spotting her, leaned forward and kissed her. Stumbling backwards, Mikan stared at Yuu, utterly confused. "Why did you do that?" she demanded, wiping at her mouth with her sleeve. If possible, Yuu looked like he surpassed even Mikan's level of confusion, and was even too surprised to blush.

"You told me to." he explained.

"What? When did I...I don't...This must be a misunderstanding. It's me, Mikan." she sputtered. "Yes." Yuu replied, slowly. "Yes, I know you're Mikan. But you told me to kiss you...in your email...didn't you?" When he saw Mikan's bewildered expression, it started to dawn on poor Yuu that he had misunderstood the situation completely. Of course, he thought, how could a girl like Mikan ever be interested in a boy like him?

Now, he did flush after all, and tried to apologize to Mikan profusely. Who still hadn't grasped what was going on. Figuring that Yuu must be devastated about Sumire's betrayal, and that was why he'd decided to kiss her, to seek solace and comfort, she flung her arms around him, which did nothing to help Yuu regain his wits.

"You're hurt because of Sumire did, is that it? I came here to tell you about it, but apparently you already knew what happened. I'm so sorry, Yuu, I didn't know she was going to cheat on you."

However, Mikan's apology was lost on Yuu, who was still blushing because he had kissed Mikan, and therefore unable to form any kind of coherent thoughts. After Mikan kept on blabbering about things he had no clue about, he decided to put both of them out of their misery and told her that it was fine, and that he wasn't broken up over Sumire's betrayal (as Mikan put it teary), because he was, in fact, in love with someone else.

"Who is the lucky girl, if I may ask." Mikan inquired, bouncing right back to being cheerful. Stunned by her ignorance, Yuu said "It's you."

Mikan frowned. "Who? Me? What? No...you can't be...you must be mistaken. You can't be in love with me!" she exclaimed.

"I am, though, Mikan." Yuu assured her calmly.

"Oh my god, Yuu, I had no idea. I'm so sorry if I...I mean, if I gave you reason to think your feelings might be reciprocated."

But Yuu merely smiled. "It's fine, Mikan. It's you and Natsume, right? You two are in love with each other."

Mikan opened her mouth to deny his statement, but then she froze. Was she...in love with Natsume? Surely not, that couldn't be it. But...what was this feeling she got when she thought about him now, this immense pain that sliced through her heart. With a start, Mikan realized that Yuu was right, she was in love with Natsume. Or something like it she found hard to label. She needed him in her life, needed him with her.

But Natsume didn't have this kind of feelings for her. He was in love with Sumire (completely out of the blue, Mikan thought, bewildered).

She swallowed, said goodbye to Yuu and felt tears rolling down her cheeks again. She would have to be strong now. She would have to stand on the sidelines while Natsume was with another girl. A girl that wasn't her.

Serves your right, she thought, for thinking you could be Cupid. You shouldn't have meddled into other's business like that. You deserve to feel like this. You deserve your heart being ripped out and crushed, for being stupid, for not realizing your feelings, for not realizing other's.

* * *

When she got home, she saw Natsume sitting on her front porch. Taking a deep breath, Mikan plastered a smile on her face and tried to look cheerful.

"Hi." she greeted him brightly, but even to herself her voice sounded fake. Natsume didn't return her smile, he merely buried his hands in his jean pockets and contented to glare at her darkly. We're off to a great start here, Mikan thought drily, and stopped a few steps away from her best friend. Even though she didn't know if she could still call him that anymore, her best friend. Within only a few hours, he had been reduced to a stranger.

An awkward silence stretched between them, either of them unwilling to break it. "So, what do you want?" she asked him at last, trying to make the question sound light, but failing.

"What's wrong with you?" Natsume snapped at her, instead of responding. Mikan took a step back. "What?"

"You can't just call me, and yell at me, and insult me, and the hang up and not answer the phone, without ever giving me a chance to explain myself. It's not like you ever make sense, Mikan, but you really took the cake here! You can't just call me and accuse me of something I have no idea about, and then expect me to make sense of that. I can honestly say, I have no fucking clue what is going on, so please enlighten me. Please tell me what I did wrong this time!"

Mikan was too exhausted to be angry at him, and the pain in her chest almost took her breath away. It almost tore her apart to open her mouth and breach the subject of his girlfriend. His _girlfriend_. Natsume's girlfriend. For some reasons Mikan had always thought and expected to be the only girl in his life.

"Do you even have to ask what this is about, Natsume? I'm sorry if you feel like I'm a nuisance to you. But I would rather be alone right now, okay?" She tried to push past him, but Natsume grabbed her arm and kept her from walking.

"I swear to God, Mikan, tell me what this is about. Now."

"About your girlfriend." Mikan replied. She felt numb saying the word. "Though I have to be honest, I always thought you would tell me about something as major as this. But no, I had to find out about it myself!"

"My...girlfriend." he replied, dumbfounded. Whatever Natsume had expected, this was not it. He adored Mikan, he really did, but sometimes he wondered if maybe she had been dropped on her head as a baby. "Yes, your goddamn girlfriend, Natsume!" Mikan snarled. Natsume was taken aback; he had never heard her snarl once, in all the years he had known her.

"You're so full of shit." Natsume told her, and had the audacity to laugh. Enraged, Mikan shoved him. "What the hell, Natsume? You're so immature! Of course, now you are insulting me for no reason, just because I bring something up you don't want to talk about. No, don't laugh, don't you dare. I really don't see what Sumire sees in you!"

"Sumire? What the _hell_, Mikan. Sumire isn't my girlfriend. Never was, never will be. I don't even have a girlfriend, okay? So, please tell me what this is about now, this conversation is getting on my nerves."

"You're lying." Mikan accused him. "On behalf of Sumire, I'm offended that you're denying her now. You're such a coward, Natsume." Natsume was growing incresingly frustrated. "Listen, Mikan, Sumire is not my girlfriend, okay? She's. Not. My. Girlfriend."

"I saw a photo of the two of you kissing." Mikan yelled, angry that he was playing dumb. Angry red splotches showed on her cheeks and made her look that much more adorable. Natsume wanted badly to kiss her. "Yes, because Sumire kissed me, and someone must have taken it. But _she _kissed _me_! I didn't kiss Sumire Shoda, okay? Did it ever occur to you that the kiss might not have been consensual? There's only one person I would like to kiss, and that's not Sumire."

Mikan mulled his words over in stunned silence. When she got to the last part, all the relief that had flooded her whooshed out again.

"So, there is a girl you like, then?" she asked, trying to hold back tears. "Yeah, there's is." Natsume confirmed, and grinned when he saw Mikan's expression. "Well, I guess we talked about our problems, so may I enter my house now?" Again, Mikan tried to unsuccessfully push past Nastume.

"No, we're not quite done here. I take it your playing matchmaker ended in disaster?" "Do you want me to admit I was wrong so badly? Yes, you were right, my idea sucked. Now, there's your chance to tell me "I told you so". Enjoy it while it lasts, another chance might not present itself again for, I don't know, twenty-five years."

Natsume doubted that considerably, but refrained from pointing out how his best friend's plans were prone to escalate, end in tears (on her part, usually), and a lot of yelling (on both their parts).

His red eyes glistening, he took pleasure in reminding Mikan of the bet they had going on. Annoyed, Mikan narrowed her eyes. "Fine." she snapped. "Let's get this over with. What is it you want? Talking about that mystery girl of yours some more, the one you're oh-so in love with?" Mikan knew she acted like a bitch, and Natsume knew why she did it. She was adorably jealous, but he felt magnanimous today and would put her out of her misery soon enough.

Leaning forward until his lips brushed her ear lobe, he whispered. "Close your eyes." Repressing a shiver caused by his proximity, guileless Mikan obliged, and waited for Natsume to do whatever he was so keen on doing.

The pair of smooth lips that was pressed on her mouth took her by absolute surprise. The brunette made a surprised sound low in her throat, and opened her eyes, gasping for air. Natsume stood so close to her that their bodies almost touched, his eyes lingering on her, smoldering in their redness. He had just kissed her. Natsume Hyuuga had just kissed her. Mikan opened her mouth, and closed it again. She was at a loss.

Wetting her lips, Mikan stared at him, trying to come up with words, but failing. "What did you...just do?" she eventually stammered dumbly, her head feeling empty, like all thoughts had taken off on a spontaneous vacation to Haiti, even though she wanted more than anything for him to kiss her again. Mikan couldn't bring herself to look Natsume in the eyes, because her pair was mesmerized by his red, supple lips. The lips that had just kissed her. That had bereaved her of her senses.

Natsume took absolute pleasure in seeing Mikan unraveling. He had been waiting for this moment for years, for his Mikan to realize that she belonged by his side. Not just as a friend, but as a partner; as his girlfriend; as his lover.

"I kissed the girl I love." Natsume replied smoothly, put his arms around her waist, and tried to resume kissing her. "You're still a jerk, though." she pouted. "Yes, and you like me better for it. Now, shut up, and let me kiss some sense into that pretty, little head of yours." Involuntarily, Mikan's arms sneaked around his neck, and she pressed herself as close to him as she possibly could, her eyes falling closed, all thoughts escaping again, already on their way back to Haiti.

It was like her body fit perfectly into the shape of his, like it was made to. She sighed happily. Kissing Natsume made Mikan feel like she was flying, like her feet were off the ground, and his embrace was all that anchored her to earth. Mikan felt completely, perfectly happy. And the only one who could possibly match her happiness was Natsume, who reveled in the smell, feel, and embrace of the girl he loved. Despite her admittedly zany schemes that had a tendency to blow up in their faces. But, the love-smitten Natsume mused, he probably wouldn't want her any other way.

* * *

**A/N: **This piece is inspired by Jane Austen's _Emma_, if you hadn't guessed. I might write one shots inspired by other works of dear Jane if I can think of a decent plot. This is longest chapter in the collection yet, hope you enjoyed. Also, the website wouldn't let me use the email-addresses I came up with for the characters and cut them of at the at-sign, idk why, so I had to shorten them.

And let it be said that I don't think it's okay for others just to sneak up on a person, girl, boy, whatever, and kiss them, without their consent. Yes, Mikan is just misguided like that, but evidently, she didn't like it either. On a different note, I don't really have a bucket list of things I want to do in life, but if I had one, saying _Shut up and kiss me now_ to someone would be on it. By the way, **Disclaimer:** I don't own the song, it's by All Time Low. Reviews are greatly appreciated. And I know things just kind of escalated quickly here and the story could have been expanded on, I'm kind of satisfied with how it turned out. Also, I try to always update on the first day of the month, but I was too busy yesterday, so today will have to do.

Now, thanks to the following reviewers:

Hammsters, NV (Thanks ever so much for your kind words! They made my day!), gabsterela, Guest and Haruhi-chan131 .


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